Mental Punishment
by a pinch of jisbon
Summary: One of Jane's schemes gets the whole team into trouble so Hightower puts them on "beauty duty" demanding that they replace the janitors on a long weekend.. will it really be as bad as it seems? **WILL BE VERY JISBONEY! plus a bit of Rigspelt**
1. Chapter 1

**This is a short story called: "Punished."**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist.**

**Chapter 1- Community Service**

_It was all Jane's fault._ Yes, she knew it sounded childish. But there was indeed a lot of truth in that one sentence. It _had_ been all his fault. The whole thing! Urg, she thought. Why did he have to go and get her into so much trouble all the time, he never thinks of other people! He just has to be so damn thoughtless.

Teresa Lisbon gripped the steering wheel angrily. Everyone on Lisbon's team had seen her angry before. But nothing compared to fury building inside her at that moment. It was nothing short of outrageous. And there was only one man, one consultant rather, that could make her _that _aggravated.

Patrick Jane is a very annoying man, she thought. In fact, you're so damn annoying that all I want to do right now is find you and punch you in the nose. The thought of Jane whimpering in the pain of a broken nose, presented a cool kind of pleasure for Lisbon. All the way to work she thought about that idea, smiling the whole way.

Why was she so angry? Well, first of all it wasn't just Lisbon who was angry. It was everyone. The team, her boss, her boss' boss and practically the whole CBI, not to mention the richest family in Sacramento and their $1000 an hour lawyers breathing down the CBI's back.

And the object of their anger? None other than one Mr. Patrick Jane. Between all of this anger, Jane himself thought it quite funny. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong. "Just working the case, Lisbon," as he'd put it. Well screw him, she thought honking the car horn at an innocent pedestrian so that she could blow through another red light, without realizing it. Lisbon was too caught up in her thoughts, in her anger to really think about what she was doing. All she knew was that she had to get going and that she was late. If she didn't get to the CBI on time, her butt would definitely be on the line, and even more so than it already was.

Some people –obviously before meeting him—would wonder how one man could ever stir up such a mess. It was quite simple really. That week, the team had been working a case, following leads and such, when out of the blue Jane announced that he knew who the killer was. Lisbon had declined him when he'd presented her with another one of his schemes to catch the killer, but he'd gone ahead with it anyway.

His plan involved taking the suspected killer back to the crime scene; the home/ mansion of the richest family in Sacramento; the Vandito's, and shaming the suspect into confessing. Unfortunately the family of eight, hardly ever left the house together, so Jane couldn't assure that it was empty before bringing in and interrogating the suspected killer. So in order to get the house relatively empty, Jane marched up to their front door flashing his CBI card and announcing that the killer might have broken into the Vandito family safe, (obviously it was a complete and utter lie) which they kept in their basement. As expected the whole eight family members rushed downstairs to check, anxiously, during which time Jane put a padlock on the basement door and locked the Vandito family in their basement.

Long story short, Jane got the killer to confess and within 20 minutes of releasing the Vandito family from their basement, several of the Vandito's millionaire lawyers were suing the state. This cost the state, city and the CBI a lot of money. And it all boiled down to Jane.

This time when Hightower had called Lisbon and Jane into her office, yesterday, she'd threatened that it was the last straw and that if something such as this 'funny business' ever happened again, Lisbon would be fired. Not Jane, not the man who had caused all of the commotion, but Lisbon.

They didn't get off that easy though. No, this time when Jane messed up it was blamed on Lisbon and this time Lisbon took the whole team down with her, serving a little thing called "community service." (the "community" of course being the CBI)

Hightower had assigned Lisbon's team a "special case." They were to arrive the at the CBI, the next morning at 4 a.m, and play "janitors." The real janitors had been working ruthlessly for weeks, without a break so Hightower had decided to give them the weekend off. Problem was there were A LOT of things to do, to clean that hadn't been taken care of, and that's where they came in.

And that is why Lisbon was so mad, how she ended up speeding down the freeway in her SUV at 3:47 in the morning on a _Saturday_ no less. Who wouldn't be mad, the whole team was.

One thing was for sure. She was _never_ going to forgive Jane for this one.

**Okay, I know it was a bit short but it's only the introduction. I warn you, though this is going to be a short story. PLEASE PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Fanfiction! This chapter is again very late and again I must apologize for having no time to write and proofread, so there may be a few (or more than a few) mistakes. **

**Thank you to all my reviewers and those who have read my stories and commented or added me to their list of favourites or alerts**

**A special thanks to: Meganelizabethh, bouncing off the walls again, MissDonnie and Allison, for reviewing and I am sorry but since this being written so early in the morning (that's my only available time of day) it will not be the best writing, I will try to improve on future chapters. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist.**

**Mental Punishment—Part 2**

_**Defrosting Forgiveness**_

**4:08**

The janitor was a scruffy sort of man. Ernie—according to his crooked nametag—with a bushy mustache and eyebrows and a daunting wooden cane.

Jane immediately picked up every thing he could on the man. Partly because he didn't look like the type to be working as a janitor and partly because Jane knew the team was mad at him for the un-paid overtime and striking up a conversation wasn't entirely practical.

The team was following _Ernie_ down one of the CBI's long winding corridors—one Jane had never ventured. Following silently and all the while observing, with his hands deep in his pockets in need of something, _anything_ to get the ball rolling on and past that "cold shoulder" performance the team was giving him. At one point he began to whistle a little tune to lighten everybody's mood. This was only received by Lisbon who turned from beside him and unleashed one of her death glares. So he stopped whistling and began pondering ways he could defrost some of the team and finally get some words flowing.

He'd been thinking about just how to do this all of last night and this morning. He hadn't slept a wink—not that he usually did. Usually when he did something to make the team mad, he bought them donuts or took them out for lunch. _Usually_ it wore off sooner. Not this time. _This _time he was going to have to work harder, give a little more.

From the moment he'd met them at the CBI doors that morning he'd been faced with nothing but cold expressions. Cold. Cold. Cold. The weather was cold enough outside this weekend he didn't need anymore-Arctic temperatures inside. He had to do something to defrost the team, to gain their forgiveness. Something. But what? He didn't know.

The tour took a left and then they were descending a long flight of stairs and deeper into the depths of the CBI—the "down under" if you will. On her way down Lisbon's foot caught on the edge of a step and she stumbled forward. Jane lurched towards her ready to help her regain her balance, but she slapped away his hands viciously, glaring. With not even the tiniest bit of sympathy, she straightened and steadied herself once again, smiling internally at having rejected her idiot consultant's help. Jane watched as she started again after the team down the stairwell. This had been just what he had dreaded. It was enough having the entire team, CBI and all there bosses, even the mayor mad at you…he could cope with that,_ not Lisbon._ Having her mad at him like this, seeing the ice in her eyes when she glared at him like that—it killed him. He _had_ to make this up to her somehow. 

_This was going to be harder than I thought. But I will succeed and they will forgive me. Won't they? Won't she?_

The stairs ended briefly at a door. Ernie—who had a nasty smoking problem and smelled of cigarette smoke like he had bathed in it, coughed and bent to retrieve a mysterious looking keychain from around his belt loop. Within routine seconds he had unlocked the door and was holding it open for the team. "Here we go troops," he said in a gruff voice.

Stepping inside everyone took in the room. It was a janitor's basement with cracked cement floors and walls, there were grey lockers, ten or so lined up orderly against the far wall. Though the room was big, the team stayed in the small formation, as if too scared to touch anything. The place was filthy.

Van Pelt smoothed down her white blazer self- consciously. Why hadn't she worn something a bit more appropriate she didn't know. She was going to get her nice clothes all dirty now. A small line formed across her brow in disappointment.

On the left side of the room there was a washbasin and fridge where an empty beer package was stacked. There was an old wooden desk with paper work sprawled totally unorganized and centuries old pizza crusts left, forgotten and abandoned across them. Even Rigsby gagged at the smell that was rising from the curious green goop growing on the pepperoni.

Ernie sighed and plopped down into the large green office chair and wheeled it over to the desk, taking off the pale grey baseball cap (that matched the rest of his janitorial uniform). He threw the cap onto the desk and rubbed his balding head with a tired sigh.

The whole team felt sick when he discovered the forgotten and mold covered pizza crusts on his desk and threw one into his mouth carelessly. Then he spoke mouth full of year old pizza. "Your uniforms are in your lockers, doesn't matter which one you choose—they're "one size fits all," he laughed. "…there are two bathrooms down that hall. Two doors to the right you'll find 'em. Report back here in ten." And with that he waved them off.

**==oOo==**

The uniforms were hideous.

Van Pelt inspected herself in the grimy bathroom mirror. "Ew! I can't believe Hightower is making us do this.

It's not even our fault. This is all Jane, and she knows it! Working with horses when I was a girl, I had to do some pretty dirty jobs, so I don't mind doing the work, but they could at least provide us with some decent uniforms. Just look at this!" she gestured waving her hand at her reflection. "It's so ugly, this level of fashion disaster should be illegal in the workplace."

Finally, Lisbon came out of the stall. "It's not that bad," she was saying. "At least yours fits, Grace." Van Pelt turned to Lisbon and laughed out loud. A dark line furrowed over her boss's brow. "I told you it didn't fit."

"And you were right." Now it was Lisbon's turn to stand in front of the mirror. The uniforms were exactly identical to the one that Ernie wore complete with cap and black running shoes. Luckily the team had found the correct shoe sizes for everyone, but Lisbon being so small and petite hadn't been as lucky in terms of the rest of the uniform. It turns out that _one size fits all_ was just a load of crap. What a way to make this weekend even better.

The one piece, zip-up scrub was so overly large for Lisbon's tiny frame that it added almost two feet to her pant legs, which dragged on the floor, and another two feet to her sleeves, that hung limply at her sides. There was also a significant amount of extra fabric in her middle and at the sides. She looked like a little kid who had tried on some of her mother's clothing.

"Here," Van Pelt began to bend down. "I'll see what I can do."

**Thanks a lot for reading! What did you think? Yes, I know it was bad, but it is 3:19 A.M! Please review, cause I would love to hear them. Good or bad?**

**- Jamhead :D**


	3. Chapter 3

Mental Punishment~ Part 3

**Thank you to all of my reviewers, you guys are absolutely amazing! Also to all of my loyal readers, thank you for waiting and keeping with me all this time. **

**Shout outs to: RainbowDinosaurNinjas, MissDonnie, bouncing off the walls again, piratemonkey06, Meganelixabethh and chymom. Love you all so much…I send my appreciation for your wonderful and touching reviews, over the Internet and through your computer to you. Thanks again!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist or any of its characters. Santa just couldn't fit them down my chimney, I guess. **

**Part 3- Humiliation **

"...and the time they take to get changed. Women can be so dramatic sometimes," Rigsby went on blatantly making large, exaggerated hand gestures to further his argument.

Cho glanced at his watch. It had been nearly seventeen minutes since Ernie had initially handed out their uniforms and shoved off everyone, so they could get changed. And it had been ten since the men had been waiting for the women to finish getting ready.

Rigsby was right. The women were taking a rather long time changing. _Really_, Cho thought, launching into his own mental argument. _How long does it take to switch attire? And why does the female gender seem to always take so much longer to do so? _

"...another thing," Rigsby was saying, hoisting a finger up into the air for emphasis. "What is it with women and shopping?".

By this time, everyone was getting very tired of listening to Rigsby talk. Everyone that is except for Ernie, who seemed to be extremely interested and agreed solemnly with every point of argument Rigbsy presented.

Finally Jane, who had been sitting beside the hallway door and across from where the rest of the men were loitering, broke into the conversation.

"Maybe, if you stopped complaining about women you'd actually get one," he said bluntly.

This sparked two rare moments. One where Rigsby actually shut up for once and two when Cho actually cracked a smile and even chuckled a bit.

Yes, it had been a bit of a bold comment, and he probably hadn't the right of way to say it considering the fact that he was still on bad terms with the team after the whole 'getting them into this punishment on a weekend' thing. But he wasn't thinking straight. Instead he had spent the last ten minutes and most of the morning trying to come up with ways to make Lisbon forgive him. It wasn't looking good so far. Sure, he'd come up with _lots_ of ways to make an apology: origami frogs, ice cream and miniature ponies were all good ideas to coax forgiveness but there was no way any of those things could happen when they were spending the weekend in a janitor's basement. If he was going to create one of his special apology schemes, he would have to wait until he had resources, or until after the weekend. Unfortunately he just couldn't suffer spending that long cleaning the CBI with a grumpy Lisbon—even if she did look lovely when she was cross with him.

Suddenly enough, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard voices escalate from the hall beside him. He, as well as the rest of team, looked up just in time to see Van Pelt coming down the hall. She had a very mysterious smirk on her face as it became apparent that she was trying not to burst out laughing.

But it was just as Jane stood up— from his place on his chair—and Van Pelt crossed the room, that he saw the reason for her expression.

It was Lisbon, or rather Lisbon's _uniform_. Jane smiled knowingly when he saw her. He could tell at first glance, that her uniform—the same size as the rest of the team's—was substantially larger than appropriate for her small body.

Lisbon had always been a very petite woman. Of course that had never stopped her from accomplishing anything. Usually her status as a senior agent or her spitfire attitude made up for her small frame, but apparently even after Van Pelt's best efforts, the uniform was not doing her any justice. Her sleeves and pant legs had been rolled up, and Van Pelt had even sacrifices her belt to try and gather a bit of Lisbon's figure at the waist, but still there were countless handfuls of loose fabric hanging down around her legs, arms and especially her middle.

Jane smiled fondly. The oversized uniform certainly did _not_ flatter Lisbon's figure…but she was _adorable!_

Lisbon walked in looking downwards as she tugged angrily at the loose fabric around her ribs. She looked up to see the team smiling and trying their very hardest not to laugh. Lisbon was just opening her mouth to say something when there was an abrupt snicker from the corner of the room and Ernie began to laugh. Despite their best efforts, the team couldn't resist and soon roars of laughter were filling the room. Even Cho was snorting a wheezy laugh.

Crossing her arms and sticking out her bottom lip in a pout, the fearless senor agent unleashed her worst death glare upon everyone.

Jane's mind was spinning, spinning with Lisbon.

Her huge uniform had been rolled up and tucked around her in the same fashion that someone would tuck the sheets in and under the mattress of a bed. All in all she looked adorable and Jane couldn't take his eyes of her.

Somehow though he managed to tear his gaze away from her gorgeous physique, seeing as how Lisbon looked so humiliated, her strong mask of anger slipping as she continued to look weaker and more fragile than usual, incredibly uncomfortable with the uniform. On top of that, there was no doubt she had a chest full of angry glares to slap him with, if she ever caught him staring.

Unfortunately, turning around, Jane soon learned that he wasn't the only one staring at Lisbon with a fond eye. Ernie was sitting, laid back into his office chair, eyeing her with his cigar between his yellowing teeth in a mischievous smile. Jane could tell by the way he was watching her, that his thoughts were definitely not clean. He was checking Lisbon out. _His_ Lisbon.

Anger and the need to scratch that man's eyes out of their sockets washed over Jane. How _dare_ he look at _his_ Lisbon that way? The perverted bastard! The overwhelming urge to march over and throw a few punches at the sick old man wracked his brain convulsively. He threw a glance to the floor, realizing his hands had balled into fists and his knuckles were white with rage.

"Go ahead and laugh," she said her voice dripping with shear anger.

But Jane could see more than that; it was all written in her eyes. They were strange, Jane's theories about Lisbon. Despite what people thought about the strong, indestructible agent, they never really once considered that she could be a self -conscious woman. Being the mentalist, Jane could tell she was. _All_ women were self conscious, especially when it came to their bodies. So when she turned slightly his way, it only took him a moment to identify the hint of hurt and humiliation bubbling up in her eyes, like tears about to spill. Of course Lisbon was a big girl; she'd _never_ cry at work.

The rest of the team was still laughing at the image before them.

"Okay," wheezed Ernie, whom Jane was beginning to despise even more by the minute. "Let's get you guys to work. On with the tour," he waved an arm and led them back down the hallway. Everyone patting Lisbon on the shoulder as they passed, sputtering with laughter and wiping tears of hilarity from their eyes. Soon the team had disappeared after Ernie, taking their laughter with them as the sound faded down the corridor. Jane and Lisbon stayed frozen in place.

Out of everyone on the team, Lisbon had expected Jane to be laughing the loudest. But as she turned to look his way she was surprised to see a soft smile on his lips. He gave no indication that he was about to burst out laughing either. Instead he gave her a small nod and extended an arm in her direction. Taking small tentative steps, she closed the space between them and came to stand beside Jane. A look of bewilderment, slight confusion and curiosity flashed across her delicate features at his gesture. Jane watched as she recovered and the corners of her mouth turned up in a small appreciative smile and she looked up at him under dark brown lashes, telling him that she was glad he was always there for her, even just for things like this, but no way in _hell_ was he forgiven for getting them into this 'punishment on a weekend' mess.

_Progress, my dear_, he thought as she fell into step beside him following the others, a hand gentle on the small of her back.

**Well, did you like it? Sorry for the delay..But you know Christmas time away from home with hectic relatives! **

**Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and enjoys a happy new year! **

**-Jamhead :D**


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